


Perfectly Routine

by Warp5Complex_Archivist



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-03-18
Updated: 2006-03-18
Packaged: 2018-08-16 06:40:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8091559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Warp5Complex_Archivist/pseuds/Warp5Complex_Archivist
Summary: (06/05/2003)





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Kylie Lee, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Warp 5 Complex](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Warp_5_Complex), the software of which ceased to be maintained and created a security hazard. To make future maintenance and archive growth easier, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but I may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Warp 5 Complex collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/Warp5Complex).

### 1st Day

"It was perfectly routine." Malcolm said, rubbing his elbow. For some reason his joints ached.

"Oh, really? Then running off for some secret rendezvous with our comm officer is standard operating procedure for you?" Trip drew up to his full height and stabbed his index finger towards Malcolm. "If you hurt her...you realize then I'll just have to kill you," he said, grinning at his friend's obvious discomfort.

"What? No! Nothing like that happened. We were looking for— We went for a walk through the marketplace. We merely ate dinner together. It was perfectly routine." He paused. What were we looking for? "Perfectly routine," he repeated.

It was perfectly routine, Hoshi thought, getting ready for bed. We walked through the marketplace. I bought a book of essays. We were looking for...  
something. We had dinner at a caf when we realized how late it was. Perfectly routine. She looked for some balm to use on her knee; it was sore and stiff.

### 2nd Day

â€”I can't breathe!

â€”where am I?

â€”damn

â€”can't move...

"Who's there?" Malcolm gasped and opened his eyes. He was sweaty and shaking. His right foot ached. He drew back the covers, a tingle of dread creeping down his neck, and looked at his foot. It was unmarked. He laughed; some nightmare, he thought. I was— he realized he didn't remember what he had dreamt. Something about a room and chair and a...balloon? He stood and walked to the shower.

He entered the mess hall and got a large cup of coffee. It was early and the room was mostly empty. T'Pol was reading in the corner. Hoshi sat alone sipping her coffee. She looked paler than usual and her hair was roughly pulled back; it looked like it hadn't been brushed. He sat down next to her. "You're up early," he said.

"I couldn't sleep," she said, "I was thinking about a modification for the UT."

"You know Trip thinks we're some sort of an item," he said with a smile, "he actually warned me to respect your honor." She laughed.

"I told you the gossip would fly if we ate at that caf instead of meeting up with the others," she said, "but no, you had to let hunger spoil our reputations. This ship is worse than a junior-high bathroom."

Malcolm laughed. Their eyes met briefly. He looked away and noticed that his hand was tightly intertwined with hers. She followed his gaze and looked at their joined hands quizzically. Neither made any attempt to pull away.

### 3rd Day

â€”what is this?

â€”what's happening?

â€”oh god, the walls are moving!

â€”help.

—Only you can stop this.

—help us.

"Where am I?" Hoshi woke suddenly. She looked up at her bed from the floor. I fell out of bed, she thought. She stood and made her way to the shower. She turned the water on cold and sat naked, curled in a ball, on the floor letting the water strike her, cold and sharp.

Later she shared a turbo lift with Malcolm to the bridge. They rode without speaking. When they exited they were tightly gripping hands again.

### 4th Day

â€”what are you?

—Tell me and I'll stop. You're making me do this.

â€”I can't breathe.

â€”I can't see.

â€”my legs are burning.

—Tell me.

"They are definitely doing something," Trip said to T'Pol, gesturing across the mess hall. "They don't even try to keep up appearances. Just make a beeline for the corner to hold hands. I swear I'll have to kill him if he hurts her," he added with a touch of glee.

"I fail to see what killing Lieutenant Reed would accomplish," T'Pol replied, "it would not make her...feel better." She had been quietly drinking her tea when Commander Tucker had sat down without asking.

"Hoshi, please forgive me for saying this, but you look awful," Malcolm said, his hand unconsciously seeking hers under the table. "Are you sick? Should you see the doctor?" Her eyes were red and bleary and she had dark circles under them.

The doctor. I should see the doctor, she thought.

"You don't look too hot yourself," she said. His uniform was neat as always, but his face was unshaven and his hair was almost messy. His cheeks look hollow, she thought. "Maybe we both need to see the doctor."

"Yes, we'll see the doctor," he said quietly.

She tried to lift her hand to take a spoonful of soup and had to pull it out of his. She crinkled her nose in surprise.

"Isn't that odd," she whispered.

"Hoshi...do you think something happened to us? Maybe back on Ahtsiahn Four? I haven't been feeling well since—"

"What do you mean? I'm fine. I just haven't been getting enough sleep," she said, "everything that happened on Ahtsiahn Four was perfectly routine." She stood up to leave. "You're being silly." She walked away, stumbling slightly as she exited the mess hall. I'll go to the doctor after I get some sleep, she thought.

"Perfectly routine," Malcolm said, "of course it was."

### 5th Day

—Speak!

—Tell me what I want and this ends.

â€”Who's there? Malcolm moved his head. Am I dreaming? Am I remembering? He saw a large round face peering into his eyes. There was a symbol tattooed to the face—a bird-like form with a large eye.

—Give me what I want.

â€”I don't know what— Malcolm heard a scream nearby. It was Hoshi's voice. He tried to jump to his feet but he was restrained. He looked down at his legs; they were encased in a cage-like contraption with hundreds of sharp spikes turned inward. His right foot was misshapen and bruised. Hoshi screamed again.

—Give me what I want and you both may go.

Round-face set a writing tablet and stylus on Malcolm's lap.

—Tell me and her hurting stops; tell me and we won't start our conversation again.

Round-face picked up a heavy mallet.

Malcolm picked up the stylus. He scratched the tip down the side of his cheek. Not very sharp but it could do in a pinch. He wrote two words on the tablet and tossed it at round-face.

—I don't know whether to be disappointed or impressed.

Round-face raised the mallet and brought it down hard on Malcolm's left hand. Malcolm looked at the symbol tattooed to his face and passed out.

"Who's there?" Malcolm awoke. His hand ached. He examined it under the light in the bathroom. It was unmarked. Why did I think it was hurt, he thought, getting into the shower.

When he was toweling off he saw it in the mirror. Right down the side of his face, a red weal from some kind of scratch. "Where did that come from?" he said.

### 6th Day

â€”Where am I? Hoshi tried to stand and hit her head. What is this place? Why am I here? She looked around. She was in some kind of a box; it had three smooth metal walls and a cage door. She saw a door in the outer room about a meter away. The ceiling and floor were smooth as well. She couldn't stand upright; the ceiling was about five inches lower than she was tall. She could reach her arms out and lay her palms flat against opposite walls.

She heard a bellow of pain from somewhere. It was Malcolm. She kicked the door. She banged on the walls. Her arms were badly burned.

—Give us what we want.

She heard the voice but there was no one in the room. She heard a click and each wall of the box moved inward five inches.

â€”Who are you? What do you want? She wanted to cry.

—If you don't tell us what we want we shall be forced to continue. We don't want to continue, do we?

She heard Malcolm yell again.

â€”Why are you doing this? She knelt and clutched at the cage bars.

The box clicked and the walls moved in five more inches. She saw a strange symbol etched in the metal.

The outer door opened and Malcolm was thrown on the floor in front of her cage. He was bruised and his hand was broken. He was unconscious. She reached through the bars and touched his hair.

The walls closed in five more inches.

Then the metal started to heat up.

"Hoshi, I don't want to order you to see the doctor but, damn it, I'm ordering you to see the doctor!" Archer slammed his palm against his ready room wall for emphasis. "You look like death warmed over," he said, "you're not paying attention on the bridge, and I happen to be worried about you." He touched her shoulder. "Is there anything I can do?"

"I'm okay, really," she said, "I'm...just having some problems sleeping." I should see the doctor. Why haven't I seen the doctor?

"Then see the doctor about your problem with sleeping. That's an order, Ensign."

"Yes, sir."

"And ask Lieutenant Reed to come in on your way out," he said, dismissing her.

"Captain I assure you my ability to perform my duties is in no way impaired," Malcolm said, "I'm simply having some...difficulty sleeping."

"Then I'm sure the doctor can help you with that," Archer said, looking at his officer's face. It was unkempt and had two vicious looking scratches running down either cheek. "Malcolm, I know you wouldn't want to be excused from any disciplinary action that may be warranted just because you're someone I'd hope to consider my friend."

"Of course not, sir."

"Now, my current policy on shipboard romances is unless they are brought to my attention I tend to look the other way. However, there's no faster way to bring one to my attention than to let it interfere with your duties."

"Sir! There's nothing like that— I give you my word."

"Good. In that case, consider this an order, Lieutenant: go to the Doctor and get checked out. Now."

### 7th Day

Hoshi was in the box. The walls were once again at arms length. The metal was cool. Was this real? Was Enterprise a dream? She barely knew who she was anymore. She waited for the voice to ask its questions but she heard nothing but silence. She heard the click that preceded the walls moving. She screamed.

The door opened and Malcolm fell to the floor in front of her. He was limp and breathed shallowly.

â€”Hoshi...he whispered her name, floating on the edge of consciousness. He took her hand and held it to his cheek. I got it, he said, choking. I got...his arm flopped out in front of the bars. He had scratched a design on it; it was the same design on her cage. She took his hand and gripped it tightly.

The walls clicked again.

Hoshi woke with a start. She tried to sit up and a wave of nausea hit her. She rolled out of bed and crawled towards the bathroom. She didn't make it and vomited on the floor, heaves wracking her body. When they abated she crawled to the bathroom and tried to brush her teeth. She turned the shower on full cold and stepped in, still in her tank and pajama bottoms.

"Hoshi!" Malcolm's voice cut through the sound of the shower. "Wake up, you've got to get out of there." She was curled on the bottom of the stall, shivering. He turned the water off and knelt beside her. "Come on," he said.

"Malcolm?" she said, "what time is it?"

"Around 0400."

"What are you doing here? You should be asleep."

"I...woke up. I had something to show you," he said.

"What is it?"

"It's," he paused, "I can't quite remember...isn't that strange?" He took her arm and pulled her towards him. "We've got to get you dry and warm." He gathered her close and stood, walking her out of the shower stall. His skin was warm and smelled clean. She could feel his heart beating through his t-shirt and she saw that he was dressed for sleeping.

He had something to show her that was so important he came to her door at four o'clock in the morning without getting dressed, and then he forgets it? She wrapped her arm around his waist, drawing warmth from him.

"You're getting wet," she said.

"I don't mind," he said. He grabbed a towel and threw it around her shoulders. He was facing her now and using the towel to dry her hair. He brushed her hair back from her face and dropped a kiss on her forehead. She smiled. He lifted his left hand and touched her face, her neck. He touched her cheek and she raised her hand to clasp his when she saw it.

His arm, the inside of his left arm was marked with an ugly welt, scratched in some kind of design. Looking at it made her feel sick.

"I have to go to the doctor," she said, "you have to take me to Dr. Phlox." She backed away, her eyes fixed on his arm.

Malcolm looked at his arm in surprise. "How the hell—" he started, looking up at her terrified face, "Hoshi, what's going on?"

"I don't know," she was nearly hysterical, "I don't know! Just take me to sickbay. I don't think I can get there by myself."

They walked down the hall to the turbolift. Hoshi leaned against his arm. He felt very tired. "Where are we going?" she said.

"To sickbay," he said, unsure of himself.

"I'm all wet," she said, "I should change. I need to go change."

"Yes," he said, "you should change. We'll go back and you can get dry." His knees felt weak. He tried to remember why they were going to sickbay. It didn't seem important anymore. Hoshi stumbled and fell to the floor. He sat down next to her. They leaned against one another and closed their eyes. Travis found them thirty minutes later; they hadn't moved.

"Lieutenant? Ensign?"

"They should awaken soon."

"What the hell did that to 'em?"

"I believe I may have an explanation."

Malcolm opened his eyes and squinted. Dr. Phlox was administering a hypospray to Hoshi on the biobed next to him. Captain Archer was talking to Trip and T'Pol. Hoshi fluttered her eyes briefly. T'Pol spoke.

"The mark Lieutenant Reed has on his arm is one adopted by members of an association known as the Z'vaestsa within this sector," she said.

"Association?" Archer asked, "what sort of association?"

"An organized group of individuals who have banded together for the purpose of criminal activity," she said.

"I think she means gangsters," Trip said.

"If you prefer," T'Pol continued, "trafficking illegal commodities is the most common form of criminal activity these...gangsters...engage in."

"What did they want with Malcolm and Hoshi?" Trip said, "why'd they stick that device in them?"

"The most valuable commodity has always been information. Many would pay a great deal for detailed information about this ship," T'Pol paused, "and its crew."

"Captain," Malcolm said, "I'm not sure what's going on; why are we in sickbay?"

"Hoshi...Hoshi?" She heard her name called but it sounded like it was coming from far away. "Ensign Hoshi Sato!" That one was closer. "Hoshi, love?" She opened her eyes. Malcolm smiled. She was in sickbay, he was sitting on the edge of her biobed.

"What happened," she said, "did we have a virus?"

"Apparently somebody did something to us when we were on Ahtsiahn Four," he said, "implanted a device that disrupted our sleep patterns with a kind of interrogation program. We were kidnapped without leaving the ship." He sounded angry, but his face registered confusion.

"I don't remember," she said, "I felt so tired." She held her hand out and he took it with both his hands.

"I don't think we were ever supposed to know about it," he said, "at least not consciously. Phlox is going to help us remember." Hoshi gasped involuntarily. "We need to know if we said anything; we need to know if they broke us." His voice was beyond anger now; he spoke in calm, heavy tones.

"When did—" she started, sitting up so she faced him, "I remember that day in the marketplace so clearly. We were looking for..." she paused, confused, "something." Malcolm thought for a minute. What had they been looking for? As realization hit him his face broke into an enormous grin.

"We had gone into that bookshop," he said, remembering aloud. Hoshi had held up a heavy book and said, "do you think we should get this for Trip for his birthday? It's a manual on interspecies mating practices." They had laughed and spent the next few hours wandering the marketplace, looking for more and more outrageous gifts to bestow on their chief engineer (and other members of the crew), each trying to outdo the other, laughing and talking. When the moons started to rise and they stopped to watch a fire dancing act Malcolm realized he didn't want the day to end. He wanted to keep these moments with Hoshi to himself. He didn't want to share her laughter and spirit with the others, not yet. He had looked at her, face lit with the many colored fires and, on impulse, said: "Let's not go back yet; have dinner with me." She had smiled, a small amused smile.

"Are you sure that wouldn't be too...awkward? I mean, we do work together...people might talk." He had laughed because he knew she was teasing—teasing him!—and it made him happy to know she felt comfortable enough to tease.

"The devil with people," he had said, "I want to take you to dinner, Hoshi. Do you want to have dinner with me?" She had given her answer with a big smile and the suggestion of a caf several streets back. "I remember," he continued, "what we said we'd say if anyone asked about our day. We'd just say it was perfectly routine." Hoshi laughed.

"I don't really remember dinner," she said, "I'd like to remember that." She blushed lightly. He moved closer and she met his eyes, waiting.

"I see you both are feeling better," Archer's voice startled them apart, "I hope I'm not interrupting?"

"No sir," they said. He looked at them, hands clasped, sitting close on the biobed.

"I wanted to apologize to you both," he said, "I took your behavior this past week as a sign of inappropriate fraternization. Phlox tells me you may have sought each other out, subconsciously recognizing your shared trauma. I'm sorry I didn't realize it was something more serious. I should have had more trust in you both." He paused and nodded at their intertwined hands. "As far as anything else is concerned, I don't believe anything has been brought to my attention; I'd like you to keep it that way." He turned to leave and Hoshi swore she saw him wink.

The sleek ship cut through space, speeding to its destination. Inside two passengers argued.

"I don't know why you're so happy," the tall female said, "we didn't get anything. Not the plans for the ship, not the firepower, the warp capacity, nothing! Kivelean will be displeased."

"On the contrary, I'xishka," the round faced male replied, "we obtained a great deal of valuable information about the humans. We will get a high price, I swear to you! We know much about their biology, their stamina, even their regard for others of their kind. Most importantly, we know how they react to the Golovanavar device. Next time we will adjust it properly to prevent the datastream from bleeding into their waking routine."


End file.
